


Stream of Conciousness

by MaskedNightingale



Series: The Mysterious Disappearances of the Daisy Ward [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Crack Treated Seriously, Erik is very confused, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Isekai, Modern Girl who time travels, Not really reincarnation but a scifi/fantasy twist kind of -carnation, Original Female Character is Raoul's twin, Philippe is Yandere with a Sister Complex, Raoul is adorable, Second Chances, Story from a dream, Timeline What Timeline, Transmigration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25420891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedNightingale/pseuds/MaskedNightingale
Summary: After a life of being bed-ridden and losing her voice, a modern girl is sent back through time & space with a second chance.She lives her new life with a new power fused within her DNA and a mouth with no filter.Born as a Main Character's twin sister in her favorite story of all time, Phantom of the Opera, things will definitely be interesting.
Relationships: Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Mysterious Disappearances of the Daisy Ward [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094147
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31
Collections: Reincarnation and Transmigration





	1. This is How I Died...

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure this will end up being a short story. I'm basically writing each chapter with a main event associated to it, pivotal change kind of events. Since my O/C has no filter you won't be lost because she can't help but fill in details for everyone that can hear. 
> 
> This story would not let me go and is one of the (many) WIPs I have. It was the one that was shouting the loudest though, so much so that I couldn't hear anything from my other stories. The others shall not be abandoned.

I remember the time when I could no longer speak.

I remember the time when the friends and family of my other life started to dwindle until there was no one coming by my last resting place. 

I remember wishing so hard.

I remember thinking that if I got a second chance I would do all the things I hadn’t been able to do in life where making it outside was a blessing as well as a curse. 

If I had a second chance I would live life to its very fullest and I would thrive and I would love, love so much more. 

  
  


The doctors told me that I had only a few days left. 

As the countdown began in my head, I looked at my surroundings. 

The nurse across the hall from my room that always had a smile but didn’t seem to care that the wafting smells of her homemade cupcakes were like siren calls to those of us who could not even stand. 

The hospice counselor that would duck his head in occasionally as if expecting the family members that no longer came to suddenly arrive when I was at my end. 

They wouldn’t come, because I pushed them away long before I got to the moment I was at towards the end. 

I woke up in the middle of that night, the night the world would think I died. 

A cloaked shadow stood over my bed, my eyes widened and my mouth would have gaped if it could have. The shadow moved so that the tray with my speaking technology would be in front of me, adjusting it just so...so that I was able to tap out the sequences I needed to ask my question.

-Are you Death?-

The strange cloaked figure only tilted its head to the side before responding in a soft but impossibly deep voice, “I once thought I was.” 

The silence stretched because the me of that time didn’t know how to respond to a tall, cloaked stranger that looked like Death but stated he wasn’t. 

A breath was let go after what felt like more than ten minutes of the cloaked person staring down at the bedridden me. 

“I’m here to offer you a second chance.” 

I would have laughed if I could have, for isn’t that the sort of thing everyone who was in the cancer ward dreams of, wishes of but never happens. 

So I typed my response, -Why me?-

More staring from the cloaked figure, I could practically feel the theoretical holes they were burrowing into my skull from their stare. 

“Carter…” The cloaked figure seemed to stiffen even further as my heart rate dropped. “You don’t have much time. Just say yes.” 

My brows would have furrowed then if I still had eyebrows back then. 

-How you do know me?-

The cloaked figure turned and strode to a nearby wall only to slam his fist against it and let out a frustrated growl. 

My eyes flickered toward the oddly closed hospital room door, wondering if a nurse would come in to check on me. 

-What will happen?-

Another deep sigh, “Your body will disintegrate and be sent back in time. You will have a chance to…”

The figure rushed to my side as the monitor beside me began to beep as my vitals continued to drop, my eyes began to flutter shut. 

“Say yes, Carter!” 

-Ye…-

I lost consciousness but the figure seemed to have seen what I was about to write because I suddenly felt ice cold hands on my cheeks and the barest whisper of lips upon my forehead.

I’m still not sure if I really heard the last words, the memory is so faint now.

“See you soon.” 

  
  
  



	2. This Is How I Was Born...

I was born Calamité Rose De Chagny on the night of a blizzard on the outskirts of Paris. The date was November 9th, 1845. 

My older brother, Philippe, would come to tell me later why my un-christened name was Calamity. 

My father was a man obsessed with keeping a fine lineage, a man who kept mainly men-servants and only visited my mother when he sought to make more possible heirs. 

When I was born before my twin brother, Raoul, it was only the saving grace of the midwife and my older brother's arms that protected me from my father’s rage. He stated a daughter would bring calamity upon the De Chagny name. So, before I was christened my name was Calamité and after I became known as Calliope (mother was English, so she always pronounced it “Ca-Lie-O-Pea”) after my mother’s great aunt. 

Thankfully I was a twin and my younger brother, Raoul, was born shortly after I came into the world. My father’s anger was forgotten when he had his second son in his arms. I was mainly ignored for the rest of the time my father was alive. 

It wasn’t until I was backhanded by my father when I spoke up at dinner one night when I was three, that the knock that it gave me seemed to unlock my past memories. 

I remembered then that I had once been Carter Blake (named after Howard Clark the archeologist that found King Tut), born to two very ambitious archeologists. I was loved back then and I knew even after the disease had taken over and I had pushed everyone away they had still loved me. 

It wasn’t only my memories that arrived when I was three but the acknowledgment that something was very odd about me indeed. I kept it a secret from everyone, even my twin, but at times I would see balls of light in the forest surrounding our estate. It was with quite a bit of excitement that I followed the lights one night when I snuck out of bed and found they led to a ring of mushrooms in a small clearing in the forest. 

It seemed the world I had found myself in was not the one I had originally thought, for I was pretty positive that the world that Carter had lived in did not have real live fairies in it. Course I couldn’t know for sure, but with all the social media you would think someone would have found proof of them in the day and age I had once lived in. I only mentioned the lights once to Raoul but he had stared out the window stating he didn’t see any, and so I never mentioned them again. The cloaked figure that resembled death floated through my mind. Magic could it truly exist in the world I had found myself. 

Armed suddenly with a whole wealth of knowledge of the past and future, I resolved that I’d start living from that moment on. It was with this knowledge that I put together something that had been tugging at my memories, even before they came back, every time our last name was mentioned. My brother was Philippe De Chagny and my twin Raoul De Chagny. Two names that were characters from my favorite book and fandom back in the future in my other life. It couldn’t be a coincidence. If they were real then that meant ‘He’ was real. The Phantom of the Opera.


	3. This Is How I Stole His First Kiss...

After my parent’s sudden and tragic deaths and my uncle’s swift (and mysterious) departure from the DeChagny estate, my older brother took me under his wing. While Raoul was sent to begin schooling at the very young age of five at a boarding school, Philippe himself had to attend before he reached majority, Phillipe took me on adventures. 

My older brother was fiercely protective of me. He would tell me how he had decided I was ‘his’ the moment I was placed in his arms as a baby. He was the only one that didn’t look upon me as if I were mad when I would ramble about all manner of things, he would just watch and listen with the utmost concentration.

I never told him about the fairy lights though, or the fact that I felt the same sort of electricity in my veins that hung in the air after a fairy dance. 

Philippe fed my desire for knowledge and after having one venture pay off after listening to me about something to invest in, he began to consult me about what next technologies or businesses would be best to invest the family fortune into. 

My brother was not necessarily lazy, but after finding out I had an ‘affinity’ for business even at a startlingly young age he encouraged it and thus profited from it. 

So when I mentioned that I would like to see Russia, he made the plans. 

I had a reason for Russia. In a locked diary, I kept all the details I remembered from Erik’s history. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if the man who had already seemed so fantastical; if he perhaps also had the power that thrummed through me. After all, in the book he was known as a magician (among hundreds of other talents); he was a genius. Considering the timeline of the original novel I estimated when possibly his past events could have taken place, I couldn’t very well go off too much what happened in Kay’s sequel since it was less likely to have actual facts supporting it. So instead I went off what I remembered from the book, at one point he had joined a band of gypsies and became a living attraction known as the  _ "le mort vivant".  _ It was with this information that I found through ‘the grapevine’ which is what I liked to call the noble’s gossip chain that the group was headed to join a carnival in Moscow.

From the timeline, I had come to realize that with my arrival and/or existence as Raoul’s twin he had been born earlier than the novel’s timeline might suggest; which made me wonder if he would even meet Christine when she was a child. Their age range would no longer match up, unless of course my shift in the time stream caused that to change as well but I didn’t think so. 

Philippe didn’t need much convincing; he was a man driven by his desires and he had heard of the Russian vodka and wanted to try it at its source. So as he was out about finding out the pleasures of Moscow, my tutor and I sought after the fairs and carnivals, my eyes always searching for the sign of a certain magician. 

We had almost given up, my tutor pulling me towards a waiting coach when a flash of crimson reached me in the fading light. I ran off to see it was a tent and above its entry way was the words I had sought after. I was about to go in, when some shouts from behind it had me creeping forward. 

I couldn’t make out what the group of men were saying but I winced at the sound of a cracking of bone and they dissipated when my tutor came shouting from behind. 

“Stay here. I’ll go get the gendarmes.” 

I had nodded but still crept forward towards the shadows behind the tent that the men had just left. 

The smallest sound came from it, but it was a sound I recognized as a sound of pain. I rushed forward to find the one I sought bending over his bashed hand. I let out a gasp and rushed forward kneeling before him, I took his pale hand into mine. 

“I was looking for you, you know.” As he began to yank his hand back, his head still tucked down no doubt trying to keep me from seeing his face. “I can heal it for you, but I’ll need better lighting. I’m glad I found you Erik. You don’t know how long I’ve been looking for you.” 

A flash of glowing golden eyes narrowed upon my round face, caused me to smile.

“Come, let’s not stay in this filthy alley.” I stood and offered my hand, “Here give me your other hand.” He stood instead and shuffled from the shadows into the back of the tent not even looking behind him. 

I followed quickly and saw him stiffen as he noticed I followed. 

“Sit down Mr. Magician. I need to take care of that hand. Or I suppose you could stand, most people can’t handle the pain though. But then I suppose you’ve been through worse.” By this time I was in front of him, smiling up into the face that he was paid to scare others with, I took his left hand back into my tiny hands. “Now don’t move. Let’s see thankfully it looks like they only crushed three fingers and your wrist is just sprained, but we can’t have that you are a musician you need both hands...so lets see.” Closing my eyes I focused my power into the tendons that were strained, “There you are tendons, now I just need you to heal a little quicker.” After feeling his wrist turn, I looked up at the wide golden eyes of the man, “Do the tendons hurt anymore?” He stared, “I suppose that’s a ‘no’ and so onto your fingers; looks like the upper phalanges were the ones crushed, I haven’t regrown bones in awhile not since the Comte...my father-person was alive well I guess that wasn’t that long ago but then again.” The hand was snatched away. “Oh are you going to heal them yourself, then?” 

“What do you think you are doing?” The voice was a low whisper but the sound was powerful, each word was enunciated succinctly. 

“I thought it was obvious I was healing you, but then before that I was trying to find you to see if you would be my teacher. I had a feeling that you would have the same powers as me, call it a hunch. I’m not really a seer, maybe some people would think I am, but I am not...well not really...well its complicated.” I flashed a grin up at him, but his piercing gaze didn’t subside. 

“Why did you call me ‘Erik’?”

“Um...that’s your name isn’t it? Or have you not discovered that as your name yet. I can never remember that fact, I just know at some point in your history you are named Erik. I do think it's very fitting of a name though, don’t you?” I tilted my head, and my admiration grew as I saw the man before me take everything I had said in stride. 

“Who are you?”

“Oh! I’ve been ever so rude. I’m known in this world as Calamity...Calamity Jane…” I burst out laughing but my laughter subsided when I saw how he tensed and seemed to cringe away. “I’m sorry that was a joke but no my father actually named me Calamity but my mother named me Calliope after my great aunt after the whole christening thing they do to babies. Which I’ve never gotten, I mean how does that even make sense; but then again my parents from before this life weren’t the most religious, they believed in science and stuff. I mean not to say I don’t believe in God, I do just not the God that you know all the churches and stuff preach about. Like the God they make money off of but then don’t actually do anything that they say is ‘godly’...well whatever I don’t even know how I got on that subject...oh right...christening….yep so I’m known as Calliope De Chagny.” 

“You’re not afraid of me.”

“No. No I am not, but then again I come from a future where there are so many horrible things that are just on the television that like the youngest kids see but I’m digressing again. I suppose its strange for this day and age for someone my supposed age not to be frightened of what everyone else seems to fear, but then again I’ll never really be like any of my peers...not that they are really my peers because despite my body being like five my mind is…” I counted in my head a bit, “around what your age is I think...24ish.” 

The man with the lithe frame, deep-set golden eyes and thin skeletal features let out a sigh as if resigned to the fact that he would only hear nonsense from me. 

“Lady Calliope!” 

I jumped up, “One sec Erik! I’ll be right back.” I poked my head out the front flap of the tent, “I’m in here, Gerard; no need to wake the dead with your calling. I'm fine. Now stay put, I’ll be out shortly.”

“Lady De Chagny, it’s late your brother will be waiting…”

“Gerard, I very much doubt Philippe is sitting up waiting for me. In fact he’s probably in the red light district or something or in some bar somewhere getting drunk from Moscow’s finest vodka and even if he were back at the hotel he can wait a couple more minutes. You can wait in the coach if you like, there is a light drizzle. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

“My lady…”

“Gerard, I’ll be out shortly.” I ducked back into the tent to find the magician sitting back on a cushioned seat near the entrance already stretching out his newly healed fingers. “I knew you would have powers like me, I just knew it!” I plopped down at his feet and leaned against my hands, resting on my knees, staring up at him in wonder, “After you finish your circuit here in Moscow, do you think you could come back with me and become my teacher?” 

“I already have other plans.”

“Oh no don’t tell me he came already!” 

The man reached for a mask that was set on a side table to his right, his thin piano fingers hovering over it. “He?”

“Oh...um...I probably shouldn’t give too much away. I have the awful habit of running my mouth off. Are you going to Persia?”

His hand fell to rest on the mask while his other hand clenched in his lap. 

“You must be careful. The one who recruited you is a good man...at least he was...hopefully he still is in this timeline...anyways make sure the king person never sees your eyes glow, oh and try not to make him a giant torture chamber made of mirrors and stuff because he’s going to really like it...but he’s going to like it so much that he’ll want to kill you so you can’t make it for other peoples. Oh and please try not to care about what people say about…” I gestured toward his face and his thin jaw ticked, “No matter what happens you are awesome! Don’t allow anyone to make you feel inferior, little or monstrous. Because you are not a monster!” 

“Lady Calliope!” 

I turned briefly to shout, “I’m coming!” 

I stood up and stared at the man I had come so far to see, “I’ll try in the meantime to make sure that my brother doesn’t turn into a golden angel stealing fop, so don’t worry about that...no that you would worry about that because you have no idea what I’m talking about.” Taking a deep breath, I smiled up at him with a big final smile. “You are going to do brilliant things, Erik.” 

A thought flitted through my mind then, a very naughty thought; a thought that as soon as it appeared I knew I had to do it and so soon I found myself standing above where Erik sat unmovable. I leaned down until we were at eye level and whispered, “Most importantly, be safe because I’d very much like to meet you again when I’m older.” With another smile, I bent and with no warning at all brushed my lips against the thin lips of the yet-to-be-phantom-of-the-opera before skipping away toward the tent flap before tilting my head once more, “I also hear reeds can be of great use when you need to breathe underwater in an emergency.” 

With a smile I skipped away, the last image of Erik frozen in shock causing me to giggle maniacally. 


End file.
